


violet tulips

by dydrmrnghtthnkr



Series: Hanahaki!!! On Ice [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hanahaki Disease, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9489899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dydrmrnghtthnkr/pseuds/dydrmrnghtthnkr
Summary: Mila meets Sara Crispino, and it’s the first time she’s ever wanted to befriend someone.AU where Mila develops Hanahaki disease.





	1. Chapter 1

_Mila meets Sara Crispino, and it’s the first time she’s ever wanted to befriend someone._

It’s the day before her first big competition, and while she knows she should be resting, the sunshine is too warm to resist. So Mila waits until her mother is napping to slip out of her hotel room (her mother would refuse to let her go by herself if she were awake, despite the fact that Mila is almost ten years old and therefore perfectly capable of watching over herself, thank you very much), dodges Yakov when she spots him screaming at a reporter who looks about ready to wet himself in the lobby, and escapes to the fresh air. She just wants to go for a walk, and immediately heads for the park Yakov had taken her, Victor, Georgi, and Yuri to as a reward for their hard work the previous day.

Mila decides that while the park is certainly a fun place, it’s considerably less fun without someone to bother. She’s just about to leave for the hotel she’s staying at (at least then she could watch Yakov and Yuri shriek at each other), when she spots something out of the corner of her eye. A garden. Lips spreading into a wide grin, she dashes for the flowers, and sighs in content when she breathes in the sweet scent. Mila doesn’t understand what different flowers mean like Georgi does, and she can’t grow them like Victor can, but at least she doesn’t despise them like Yuri seems to. She likes flowers; they look pretty and smell nice (which is more than she can say for some of the people she knows), so maybe stumbling upon this little garden can relieve her of her boredom. Maybe it’s childish, but she finds herself dancing amidst the colorful blooms. It’s almost as much fun as she had yesterday with the other kids.

At some point, Mila must have fallen asleep. She knows this because the first thing she processes is that she’s staring into a pair of purple eyes. The next thing that she processes is that the sky is much darker than when she had left. Moving back in surprise, the redhead narrowly avoids banging her head into a tree, saved only by the girl in front of her who’d quickly moved her hand behind Mila’s head to cushion the impact. Mila stutters out a thank you and tries not to look as embarrassed as she feels. The girl smiles and says in accented English, “You’re welcome,” moving her hand back to tuck a strand of her black hair behind her ear as she speaks.

Mila stares, then snaps out of her daze as she remembers her manners. “Sorry,” she says carefully, “but have we met before? You look very familiar.” The girl laughs. It’s a very pretty laugh, Mila notices, and it makes her eyes sparkle. Her purple eyes are still sparkling when she says, “Well, maybe you’ve seen me in the hotel we’re both staying in. After all, we are competing at the same competition, right?” Mila can feel her face burning (she must be blushing as red as her hair) as she nods her head. Because now she recognizes those purple eyes and that black hair. It’s Sara freaking Crispino and somehow Mila has managed not to recognize the extremely talented skater who could jump like nobody’s business. Mila desperately hopes she’s not offended. She doesn’t appear to be, only continuing to laugh. When she stops, Sara smiles again (Mila notices that she has a very nice smile. If laughing makes her eyes sparkles, smiling makes her eyes shine), and asks, “You’re Mila?” After Mila gives an affirming nod, she continues, “I believe both your coach and your mother are looking for you.”

Sara walks her back the entire way despite Mila’s protests, and asks her why she wandered away from the hotel. “Was it to see the flowers?” she asks. “They’re very beautiful, their meanings, too.” The younger head shakes her head. “I wanted to go for a walk. I didn’t know there were flowers there, and I don’t know what they mean, but I like them all the same.” Sara tells her all the meanings she knows, but the only one Mila remembers clearly by the end of her impromptu lesson on the language of flowers is the meaning of the violet tulip (“It means faithfulness. I think they might be my favorite flower. It’s silly, but I like that they match my eyes.” Mila doesn’t think it’s silly at all.)

When they reach the hotel, Mila wishes the walk had lasted longer. After all, the walk with Sara makes the subsequent lectures from both Yakov and her mother worth it. Possibly the only thing better than the walk though, is when Sara drops her off at her room with a smile and a hug for luck. “For tomorrow,” she says, “when you perform.” Mila isn’t quite as nervous for the competition anymore.

(She gets silver and she doesn’t think she’s ever performed better before in her life. She's not even mad she lost to Sara)

 

_Mila meets Sara Crispino, and her world tilts on its axis._

When Mila wins her first gold at an international competition, she is surprised. She’s thirteen years old and she can’t quite believe that she’s standing at the top of the podium. Mila makes sure to give her best smile. She’s so happy it doesn’t take much effort at all. Even so, she’s relieved when the camera finally stop flashing, when the reporters stop asking questions. Interviews have always tired her. Even if she wins a million gold medals, she doesn't think that will ever change.

Finally escaping to the elevator (her room will provide much needed rest; maybe Yakov wasn't wrong when he said pulling all nighters before competitions was stupid), Mila embraces the peace and quiet. Only suddenly it isn't quiet as all. The next people in the elevator are familiar in the skating world and are furiously arguing about a flight time: Michele and Sara Crispino.

When Sara sees her, she squeals and rushes to wrap Mila up in her arms. “Congratulations!” Sara grins, looking down at the little skater. “You did so well! That combination spin at the end...wow! And those jumps in the second half-” Mila grins as the purple-eyed skater babbles on and on about her performance. When she pauses for breath, Mila takes the opportunity to compliment Sara: “You did great, too! It's your first time competing in the Senior division, and you got gold!” When Michele finally steps into the conversation (“...we've been in the elevator for 20 minutes. Sara, our floor was twenty floors ago!”), the girls don't want to stop talking. It's been ages since Mila’s had a real conversation with her friend, not the forced pleasantries the media wants to see, but a real, genuine conversation. Clearly, the only acceptable solution to the problem is to have lunch together (Mila’s not certain of how the siblings reached that conclusion, but she's not complaining).

Lunch with the Crispino twins is new. It's new because she's never seen people quite as in sync with each other as they are. At least, sometimes they're in sync. Even as she sees the way Michele looks at Sara, adoration plain in his eyes, Mila can't help but notice that Sara’s purple eyes harden when her brother makes a comment about having to defend her honor. When they finish eating (hot pot is quite possibly the best thing Mila has ever tasted), Michele goes off in search of another skater, and Sara asks Mila to go on a walk with her. Mila doesn't know how she could ever say anything but yes.

They wander around the bustling streets until they stumble upon a park. It's probably irresponsible to stay out so late the only thing that shines their path is the moon and the streetlamps, but they do it anyway. Sara sighs when they get back to the hotel. At Mila’s questioning look, she says with a quiver in her voice, “I have an early flight tomorrow. I was hoping to stay longer, but my cousin has Hanahaki disease. I need to see him, one last time. He refused the surgery.”

Mila doesn't know what to say. She knows of Hanahaki disease, has heard horror stories of how love really can kill a person, but she's never known anyone to have it long enough to be at risk of dying from it. Most people get the surgery as soon as they can, to stop the vines and the leaves from twining themselves into the lungs, to put an end to the growth in their body. They lose their memories of who they love, and their feelings for who they love, but at least they don't die. The few who don't get surgery after coughing up flower petals either think their love isn't as unrequited as they think, or treasure their memories and feelings so much they can't imagine losing them. Whatever the case, Sara’s cousin is dying and nobody can stop it except for who he loves.

She continues: “I don't know him very well, and we never talked much when we saw each other, but I wish we had. He’ll be gone and I'll never know what it was like to know him.” She's shaking and her eyes are full, and Mila wishes she could take Sara and hide her away from the world and its hurt. Instead, she lets Sara bury her face into her red hair and holds her as she trembles. When they finally separate, the older girl takes a deep breath in and tries to pretend like everything's alright.

(When Mila wakes up, she finds a bouquet of violet tulips at her door. They’re bright and beautiful, and the attached note reads “Congratulations!” She smiles because she sees an unsaid thank you amidst the blossoms)

_Mila meets Sara Crispino, and she develops a tiny, minuscule crush._

Yakov is a volcano just waiting to erupt. Unfortunately, Yuri is too, so Mila waits for the inevitable explosion. She's running her performance through her head - it's her turn to win gold at the Grand Prix and she knows it's hers, knows it like she knows the sky is blue - when it happens: “I REFUSE TO WEAR THAT STUPID TIE.” She sighs, you'd think Georgi would be the drama queen, but no, it's Yuri Plisetsky in all of his pre-pubescent glory. Yakov roars back, “WELL VICTOR AND GEORGI ARE WEARING THEIRS SO I DON’T SEE WHY YOU CAN’T WEAR YOURS.” When the redhead sees Georgi and Victor snickering in a corner, she decides she’d better get out before Yakov turns on them, and her by association. It's the end of practice anyways; Yakov won't care.

Mila makes her way to her favorite pastry shop, remembering too late that she probably shouldn't consume anything terribly unhealthy, being a skater and all. Before she can leave though, she spots someone with long, dark hair. As if the person can sense her gaze, they turn. Mila finds herself staring into a pair of familiar purple eyes. Sara beckons her from her table inside the shop, so she stumbles through the door and into the warmth and hopes she doesn't do anything stupid.

 

“Mila Babicheva!”  
“Sara Crispino!”  
They greet each other cheerfully, and settle into comfortable conversation. It turns out Sara’s in Russia for a little bit of coaching from Yakov. Michele is here, too (Mila hopes Yuri isn't terrorizing him), and they'll be there for two whole weeks! Mila cheats a little on her diet when she shamelessly buys coffee, and she's almost certain the other skater shouldn't be eating sweets so close to competition, but it's okay. Nobody’s telling.

Sara talks a lot. She talks about her family (they’re recovering from her cousin’s death, slowly but surely), her skating (“Wait till you see my new combination!”), and the new coffee shop that opened just down the street from her rink back in Italy (“One day we can go together! Wouldn't that be fun?”). Mila likes listening to her talk. It's nice, listening to her friend talk excitedly and watching how she punctuates certain words with wild hand gestures. When she stops talking, Mila realizes she's been staring. “Sorry,” she says, flushing, “it’s just really good to see you again.” She doesn't even know how that justifies her blatantly staring at Sara for the last ten minutes, but Sara doesn't seem to mind.

Training is decidedly not as bad when her friend is here. Yakov is still ruthless, and the boys still squawk indignantly at each other at every little thing, but it's all so much better with Sara. Yuri even says, “You’re a lot different when she’s around. You don’t bother me as much.” Mila’s sure he regrets it when she picks him up and tosses him at a confused Victor, but she can’t say he’s wrong.

A week into Sara’s visit, Mila finds flower petals (violet tulip petals) on her bed covers. She doesn't remember any occasion which might cause her to have violet tulips in her home, so why are those petals there? When she mentions it to Georgi, he looks thoughtful and...a little bit scared? For once, he doesn’t seem eager to share his thoughts. The closest thing Mila gets to an answer is a question: “You don’t love anyone right now, right?” The idea of being in love is so strange she shakes her head instead of opening her mouth for fear of giving a Yuri Plisetsky-esque reply. She's got a Grand Prix to win, and no time for silly things like love. Even so, she feels a strange sense of relief when she stops finding petals. Mila chalks it down to being relieved that Georgi, satisfied now that no more petals are appearing, stops asking her questions about love.

Watching Sara leave hurts. She doesn’t quite know why, but Mila aches. She wishes those two weeks could have lasted forever. Mila doesn’t know how she managed to survive before without seeing Sara’s black hair and purple eyes everyday, and even as she helps the older skater pack, she wonders how she’ll survive when Sara leaves. So when Sara’s about to leave for the airport, Mila hugs her like it’s the last hug they’ll ever share, looks down into full purple eyes (huh, when did Mila get taller?), and makes Sara promise to stay in contact with her. If they end up crying a little, nobody needs to know.

(When Sara texts her the moment her plane lands, Mila grins and tries to ignore the butterflies fluttering inside.)


	2. Chapter 2

_Mila meets Sara Crispino, and she wants to hold on tight and never let go._

 

“VICTOR I WILL DESTROY YOU.”

One day, Yuri’s voice will just simply give out on him after suffering through his misuse of it. Until then, Mila will have to suffer. Glancing at the giggling silver-haired skater, she wonders just how he’s managed to piss Yuri off. Georgi sees her questioning look and grins as he whispers, “Check your Instagram.”

 

She scrolls and wonders what she's supposed to be looking for when she sees Sara’s latest post. It’s a selfie and Mila chokes when she sees it. Sara is dressed in a sheer black top and a purple skirt and Mila might actually die just looking at the picture. She likes it without a second thought, and spends an embarrassingly long time just staring at it. Mila wants to kiss Sara so much it _hurts_. Flushing, she forces the thought out of her head, trying to act normal when Georgi sidles up behind her to ask: “Did you find it?” The redhead shakes her head. Georgi takes her phone and taps until he finds what he's been looking for: possibly the best video of Yuri Plisetsky to ever grace all of mankind.  

Yuri screeches when he sees Mila’s phone in Georgi’s hands and _dives_ for it in an effort to get it away. The resulting tussle is enough to earn them all extra practice. Practice doesn't end up very productive though. It's just trying not to laugh while the howls of “You don't understand!” and “IT WAS _JUSTIFIED_ .” echo through the rink. Mila thinks that maybe it was justified. After all, if Victor had posted a video of _her_ singing at the top of her lungs to Taylor Swift with a hairbrush as a microphone (complete with dancing!), she’d probably want to kill him, too.

(The best thing is that _Otabek Altin_ likes the post, and proceeds to _repost it on his own account._ Mila swears that Yuri nearly dies of embarrassment right then and there.)

  
  


After practice, Mila makes her way home and wonders if she's sick. Her throats feels odd, and she's running out of breath during run throughs of her routines more and more often than before. She's a little bit exhausted, and ends up just ordering takeout instead of trying to make anything. Heading immediately for bed after a warm shower, Mila’s falling asleep when her phone vibrates, notifying her that sala-crispino has tagged her in a photo. Heart beating a little bit too fast, she taps on it and - oh. 

Sara's posted a photo of the two of them, taken at a competition where she got gold and Mila got silver. They're smiling brightly, and the older skater has an arm around her. The caption reads: “I know I already posted today, but I couldn't help it! Missing these moments too much to not to say anything <3” and Mila has a near goddamn heart attack. She likes it and comments a heart of her own and tries not to freak out. 

A beat later, her phone tells her that she's got a new text message. “Can u Skype?” Sara’s typed. Mila replies with a yes and opens her laptop. She video calls Sara and is greeted with a black screen. “Sorry,” the Italian skater says, and Mila hears rustling. “Looking for the light,” continues Sara, and there's a click as she turns it on.

Mila finds that she can't say anything when she sees Sara clearly. The other skater is towel drying her black hair. Dressed in a loose shirt with plain black pajama pants, Sara hasn't ever looked quite as beautiful. Mila’s mouth goes dry, and she has to clear her throat before she can say anything. “Glad you found it,” she says, and curses herself for not saying something more interesting. Sara’s purple eyes light up anyways when she hears her talk though, so maybe it wasn't all that bad.

 “Anyways, how’ve you been?” Mila asks. The room fills with the sound of Sara’s warm voice, low and soothing. “Good. I've tweaked my routine a bit, so be on the lookout for that! Michele’s also stepped up his game...you Russian skaters better watch out!” She talks about anything and everything except for the Instagram post of the two of them. Mila doesn't care though; she’s content to listen.

She sees Sara’s smile dim a little, and wonders why when the older skater says, “I’ve just been talking about myself. What about you, Mila? How are you?” “I don't mind,” the Russian hurries to say. “I like hearing you talk.” Sara looks away but not quickly enough to hide the flush in her face from Mila. “Even so,” the twin finally says, “I want to hear more about you and your life.”

So Mila tells her about her rink mates’ latest antics, how she’s finally making progress on fixing her free leg, and how she strongly suspects Otabek and Yuri are dating in secret. They send each other the best speculation posts about it, and giggle over them together. Finally though, Sara murmurs, “It’s pretty late, isn't it?” Mila looks at the time and winces. She’ll be lucky to get five hours of sleep tonight. “Time flies when you're having fun,” she responds, yawning. Sara’s lips curve into a smile. “Go to sleep,” she says, “we can talk more tomorrow.” Mila grins, and says, “Alright, I'll hold you to that. Sweet dreams.”

 

When she wakes up, there are violet tulip petals all over her pillow and she doesn't know why.

 

_Mila meets Sara Crispino, and it shakes her to her very core._

 

Mila has her annual check up on a cloudy day. Everything is normal, until suddenly it isn’t. Because her doctor is looking at her with sad, sad eyes and the only other time Mila has seen that type of expression on someone’s face is when her mother had to tell her her grandmother was dead. “I thought something might be wrong when I heard your breathing. A closer inspection confirmed my suspicions: you have Hanahaki.”

Mila is the model patient after she hears the diagnosis. She nods in all the right places, takes the informational papers and carefully fits them into her bag, and doesn’t break down. She promises to think about the surgery and about informing someone of her condition, puts a reminder in her phone so she won’t forget to pick up some medicine that should help her with the breathing problems, and doesn’t shatter. Even when Mila hears that she has three years at most without surgery, she doesn’t cry. She thinks that maybe she would, if it didn’t feel as if she had been encased in ice. She is numb, she is cold, and she is unreachable. Mila makes her way home and does not think or feel.

 

(When she Skypes Sara that night, she thinks maybe the other skater can tell something is wrong. But she lets Mila direct the conversation and doesn't press, and for that Mila is grateful)

 

The next day is harder. She wakes up at the normal ungodly hour and heads for the rink. She stretches and warms up and pulls Yuri’s hair. Mila runs through her routines, over and over again. She’ll run herself ragged if it means she won’t have to think about what her next step will be. If she gets surgery or not. Whatever she decides to do might be the most important decision of her life, and she’s not ready for that type of pressure. The worst part is that she doesn’t even have enough time to make a decision like this.

 

She won't ever have enough time.

  
  


The third day is the day Mila realizes what it means. What her having Hanahaki really really means. She knows that Sara cares for her. She knows that she’s one of Sara’s closest friends and that to some extent, Sara must love her. But either Sara doesn’t love her enough for it to matter, or she doesn't love Mila the right way. It doesn't matter, she tells herself as she coughs petals up and struggles to breathe. It’s okay, she tells herself. Loving Sara, she tells herself, is a privilege in itself, so it doesn’t matter if her feelings aren’t returned (she finds herself crying on the bathroom floor anyways). 

In the end, Mila tells one person about it. She doesn’t try to sugarcoat it either, just looks Yakov dead in the eye and says, “I have Hanahaki.” He doesn’t say anything, so she waits. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough at the edges: “Who is it?” Mila thinks. She thinks of black hair and purple eyes and coffee shops. She thinks of late-night walks and late-night calls. She thinks and she remembers and suddenly she knows. “Someone I don’t want to forget,” she whispers. She closes her eyes and wills the tears not to fall. “I won’t be getting the surgery.” Yakov looks at her and it’s as if all the life has gone out of him. He sighs and says, “I thought so.” A single violet petal falls to the floor. 

Mila’s life is still the same in many ways. She still can’t listen to what Yuri calls music without wanting to go deaf. She still calls Sara every night she can. She still cheats on her diet too often and spends too much time locked in the dark depths of the Internet but even so, there is something so incredibly different from before. Maybe it's knowing that her death is fast approaching; maybe it's feeling a stab of pain in her chest even as she smiles when she sees anything that reminds her of Sara. Maybe it's simply being in love. 

Her training regimen ends up changing. Yakov doubts how much longer she can skate competitively (doubts that she should even try), but he's going to help her as long as he can and as long as she can stand it. Practice is a little easier now, still getting her where she needs to be, but at a slower pace. Mila doesn't want to break her body any sooner than she has to. So she gets more breaks (to take her medication and to cough up any petals she couldn’t let fall onto the ice) and hopes it will be enough.

 

_Mila meets Sara Crispino, and she gains a new appreciation for the color purple._

 

Georgi will probably be the first figure skater viciously murdered by Yuri, but certainly not the last if the looks the Ice Tiger of Russia is shooting towards Victor and Yuuri are any indication. “Why are you guys so disgusting?” Yuri mutters, looking disdainfully at the couple. “Stop being so touchy-feely in public, it’s gross. And awful. So stop.”  Georgi smirks when he hears Yuri’s complaint. “Well Yuri, aren’t you being a little hypocritical? Why, the other day,” he begins. “Shut up,” Yuri growls before Georgi can even finish. The older skater huffs. “I was just asking an inno-” “About you and Otabek,” Mila interrupts. Victor snickers and Yuuri bites his lip to hide a smile. Yuri rolls his eyes. “Aren't you supposed to be somewhere practicing, old hag? Don’t you have your competition like, tomorrow?” She gives her brightest smile in response, knowing how it positively infuriates Yuri. “I'm sure I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern though.” Mila ignores the cries of “Fuck you! You’re even worse than that idiot JJ!” and “It wasn’t concern, you old hag!” and continues her previous train of thought: “But anyways...you and Otabek looked awfully cozy the other day, want to tell us more about that?”

 

(Later, Victor will swear that the resulting shriek from Yuri is what shatters the third floor window, despite all the pictures *and recordings* Phichit has of a drunken Victor accidentally smashing the window when Yuuri tries to teach him to pole dance)

 

Mila won't ever tell anyone, but she spends the day before the Women’s Grand Prix Final curled up on her bed. She can't breathe and she hurts so much she can't breathe and she wishes it would all just _stop_.

 

Maybe Yuri was right when he said she should’ve been practicing. Because even though Mila’s just given the best free skate performance of her entire life, even when the flowers slowly filling up her lungs, she’s not sure it’ll be enough to beat Sara. Sara, who looks stunning as she dances on the ice. Sara, who lands her signature Triple Lutz-Triple Loop combination jump. Sara, who has black hair and purple eyes and the prettiest laugh Mila has ever heard in the whole, wide world. Mila wonders suddenly, if this is how Victor feels when he sees Yuuri on ice. If he feels a strange mixture of wonder and awe and adoration. If he wants to ingrain the memory in his head forever, because it’s too beautiful to be forgotten. She wonders if Yuuri feels the same when he sees Victor, and hopes he does because she wouldn't wish the pain in her chest on anybody.

 

As the black haired skater takes her final pose, Mila feels the urge to cough. If any reporters catch sight, the secret about her condition will be out in seconds. Besides, Yakov will think she’s worsened her condition by competing if she coughs too many petals up, and while he might not be wrong, he also won't let her go to the banquet if she’s unwell. The banquet has become a highlight after Yuuri’s glorious pole-dancing performance, so Mila pushes the thought away, tries to ignore her scratchy throat and the fact that she can't seem to take in a deep breath, and screams her congratulations to Sara. The only way for Sara to get gold is if she scores well enough to beat both her personal best and Mila’s personal best. And the thing is, it might just happen. For one moment, it seems as if the entire world is holding their breath. And then - “Ladies and gentlemen, Sara Crispino, your gold medalist for this year’s Women’s Figure Skating Grand Prix Final!”

  
  


“Hey,” Mila hears. She turns around and meets purple eyes. She smiles, and says, “Hi Miss-I-Won-A-Gold-Medal-Crispino.” There’s no bark behind her remark, only a teasing tone that makes Sara chuckle. In all honesty, the Russian skater is surprised Sara found her. She’d purposefully chosen the balcony because she knew most people would be inside, enjoying the banquet. Her confusion must show on her face, because Sara says, “I asked Victor where you’d gone. I never got a chance to congratulate you on silver.” The two rest in silence for a little while. It’s just them, the city lights below them, and the cool night air. Mila almost doesn’t want to break the quiet with her voice, but she wants to talk to Sara more than she likes the quiet, so she says, “You look stunning tonight.” And it’s true. Her dress is made of purple silk that hugs the older skater’s body, coupled with heels that make her almost as tall as Mila. A faint blush dusts Sara’s cheeks as she replies with a sincere “You do, too.” A beat passes before she continues talking: “Mila, why did you choose to hide by yourself tonight? It’s the banquet; you love the banquet.” The redhead doesn’t know how to respond. But her body betrays her and she can’t suppress a cough in time.

 

“Mila! Are you getting s - wait. Is that… a flower petal? Oh. Mila, _no_.”


	3. Chapter 3

_ Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and thinks that maybe they could be beautiful. _

 

Sara is a lot of things. There are probably a thousand different words she could be described with, but strong is not one of them. Sara knows she’s not strong. And she’s okay with it. She’s used to being protected by Mickey and Emil, used to being protected. What’s new to her is  _ wanting _ to be strong, to protect someone. Because Sara has always seen strong as a sort of brute force. It doesn’t suit her. But when she looks at Mila, it strikes her that there’s more than just one type of strong in the world. Because Mila has tears in her blue eyes, petals in her throat, and sadness in the way she moves her body. And yet- she’s smiling. Mila Babicheva is  _ smiling _ . Maybe it’s the saddest smile Sara’s ever seen, but the fact that Mila’s even trying to pretend she’s okay when she has more right than anybody else to break down is a special kind of strong. Sara wants to be strong like that, for this beautiful skater who deserves so much more than this from the world, for this beautiful skater who deserves to  _ live _ .

 

So even though all she wants to do is cry and cry and cry when she finds out Mila has Hanahaki, Sara doesn’t. Even though she feels as if she’s been punched in the gut -  _ Hanahaki, not Mila, please not Mila, not her, she doesn’t deserve this _ \- and just wants to curl up and wake up in a world where her best friend isn’t dying, she doesn’t. If Mila - who is  _ dying  _ \- can hold herself together for Sara’s sake, then Sara can do it for Mila. So all she does is swallow hard and wrap Mila up in her arms. The Russian skater whispers “I’ll tell you everything. Just not now.” in a voice so quiet Sara has to strain to hear. So all she gives a sad smile of her own, pulls the younger skater even closer, and closes her eyes.

  
  


Sara doesn’t know how long they spend up there, surrounded by city lights and the night breeze. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours (it doesn’t matter; she could spend five thousand years up there with Mila and it still wouldn’t be enough). What she  _ does _ know is that Yakov is the one to find them. “Mila,” he hisses, “you have a reputation to uphold and you can’t do that by sneaking awa-” Sara isn’t sure what (maybe the way they’re wrapped up in each other, or the way their makeup is smudged, or maybe even the single petal on the floor), but  _ something _ makes Mila’s coach stop and assess the situation. He mutters some words in Russian and Mila untangles herself from the pile of limbs they’ve become to respond in kind. He turns away and says in English, “Don’t take too long,” as he stalks away. Sara pretends not to hear the crack in his voice.

 

Eventually, Sara finds the energy to pull Mila up. “Come on, we should probably get back inside.” Mila follows her obediently, fingers laced with Sara’s. They slip past the room the banquet is in, and directly to where the actual hotel rooms are. Sara’s just about to push the button for the other skater’s floor when she hears Mila ask, “Can I stay with you tonight? It can be like a discount slumber party.” Sara laughs and says, “Sure.” She leads Mila to her room and tries not to look too upset when she hears Mila cough.

 

The pair settle themselves on the bed, and after an impromptu pillow fight, spend time catching up on everything except the Hanahaki, until finally the redhead sighs and says, “I think I’m ready to talk about it now.” A mixture of sadness and apprehension fills Sara up to the very brim, even as she does her best to smile encouragingly. “I won’t interrupt,” she promises. Mila smiles (she looks so very beautiful when she smiles, Sara wishes she’d do it more) and takes a deep breath before beginning.

 

“I learned I had Hanahaki just four months ago. My doctor heard something strange in my breathing, and when she took a closer look she found out that it was Hanahaki. Georgi mentioned it once, when I had flower petals on my covers with no idea of how they’d gotten there but I didn’t think he was right. I didn’t think I was in love then. But I guess I was, because there were sometimes there’d just be petals lying around. I never noticed I was coughing them up until after the diagnosis though.”

 

Mila keeps her eyes fixed on the yellow walls of the room. Her voice is low, and Sara can’t help but wonder how hard it is for her, to force these words out. If just listening to it makes Sara feel as if her heart is being ripped out of her chest, she can’t imagine having to tell it. But she doesn't know how to help, so she continues to listen.

 

“The only person I told was Yakov. I didn’t want to do the surgery but I also wanted to skate for as long as I could. I still feel that way, and even though Yakov has adjusted my training to help me with the coughing, I'm not sure how much longer I can skate though. You and him are now the only people that know. I had three years at the most four months ago. I wonder how much longer I’ll live.” A beat passes before the redhead continues, still speaking in a voice of forced calm. “I’ll be okay though. It’ll all be okay.”

 

Sara closes her purple eyes and and asks, “Is there anyway to help you?” 

 

Mila tries to respond, but ends up in a coughing fit instead. Sara gets some water for her and rubs her back and tries not to cry. It doesn’t work.

 

(They don’t talk about why Mila has the disease. About who she loves. If Mila doesn’t want to say anything, Sara is content to leave it alone.)

 

_ Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and wonders why the world is so cruel. _

 

“You’re leaving.” 

Sara looks up to meet a pair of eyes exactly the same as her own. She tries to muster a smile. “Yes. Are you going to help me pack or not?” Her brother doesn’t budge. He just looks at her, until he finally says, “Russia? Why?” Feeling rather childish, she shoots back, “I don’t have to justify all my actions to you, Mickey!” He arches an eyebrow, voice dry as he mutters, “That might have worked if you weren’t moving to  _ Russia _ .” Sara sighs and offers an explanation. “I want to try learning in a different environment for a change. Yakov is a good coach and he’ll be able to help me.” “That’s not why,” Mickey says. He knows her too well to be deflected. “...because if I don’t go now I might not ever get another chance.” Sara says, each word heavy on her tongue because she knows how very true they are. Her hands are shaking as she folds another pair of jeans into the suitcase. The older Crispino twin doesn’t say anything for a long time. “I’ll help you pack,” he says, finally. Sara has never felt so grateful for family before. 

  
  


Mickey sends her off at the airport. He hugs her tight and makes her promise to call often. Even though he’s no longer as dependent on her as before, she knows it’ll still hurt him to be away from her. The thought makes her hug him tighter. “I love you,” she says. “Be safe,” he returns. She offers him one last smile before boarding, and hopes she’ll see him again soon.

  
  


Mila meets her at the airport with a warm coffee and a warmer smile. After collecting her luggage (which takes longer than it should because Sara has somehow forgotten to tag her suitcases), Mila calls a cab. They pile into the backseat and Mila calls Yakov to tell him that Sara’s flight was on time while she texts Mickey to let him now she’s arrived safely. When she looks up, Mila’s blue eyes are on her. Feeling suddenly flustered, Sara hurries to say something before the silence drags for too long. “Thank you. Again. It's really nice of you to let me stay at your place,” Sara says. (Even as she talks though, she can't help but wonder if she's taking advantage of Mila. Would Mila do this for anybody else? Or is she only doing it because of her feelings for Sara? The Italian skater doesn't know and it's frustrating). Mila rolls her eyes playfully in response. “Don't be silly, what type of friend would I be if I didn't?” “A good one still,” Sara shoots back. The conversation is filled with banter all the way up till they reach Mila’s apartment, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

  
  


Mila’s apartment is cozy. It's a bit small for two people, but Sara knows they can make it work. A kitchen area, a room they can relax in, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Yes, Sara thinks to herself, this will definitely work. She smiles as she surveys her room, clothes neatly hung up and the few posters she brought already on the wall. It already feels a little like home. Then again, it always feels a little like home when she’s with Mila.

  
  


Her first day of training as a student under Yakov goes no different than the training sessions she’s had before, when she was just visiting Russia instead of living there. He’s just as relentless as she remembers (“Again! It’s not perfect yet!”). Luckily, he still knows that she has limits and isn’t terribly stingy with his breaks. When he finally releases everyone for the day, Victor and Yuuri invite them all to dinner. Yakov says he’s busy (Victor and Mila exchange knowing looks and Sara’s pretty sure someone whispers, “Oh he’ll be busy alright, busy with Lilia.”) and Yuri turns a spectacular shade of red as he quietly mutters, “Well I promised Otabek I’d call him tonight, so I don’t think I’ll go.” Mila actually  _ cackles _ when she hears, and Yuuri ends up playing peace-maker as he tries to keep Yuri from strangling the redhead. 

 

When Victor turns to Sara expectantly, waiting to hear if she’ll be able to go, she doesn’t know what to say. She wants to spend time with them, to get to know them better, but at the same time, she kind of just wants to relax. Mila steps in then, and says, “She’d love to, but I think Sara might like a quiet night. First day of training you know.” Sara shoots a grateful look at her, and Victor nods in understanding. “Of course. Yuuri felt the same way when he first got here,” the silver-haired skater says, smiling when he speaks his boyfriend’s name. As if summoned by Victor, Yuuri appears at his side and says, “What about you Mila?” “I think I’ll stay with Sara,” she says simply. 

 

When they’re back at the apartment, comfortably squashed next to each other on Mila’s couch, Sara feels the need to say something about the dinner. She flips through a book as she thinks, not really taking in any of the information. “Thank you for staying with me. You didn’t have to,” is what she settles on. Mila gives a smile as she looks up from her own book, and says, “I wanted to. Besides, I’m a little tired. Sorry if I end up falling asleep on you.” As it turns out, Mila  _ does _ end up falling asleep on the couch. Sara finds spare blankets to cover her with in the closet. When she doesn’t find any spare pillows, she ends up taking one from Mila’s bed so she can prop the sleeping skater’s head up. Gazing down at her friend, Sara feels the corners of her mouth turning down when a flower petal ends up on Mila’s lips. Leaning down to brush it away, she feels her purple eyes beginning to water when another petal soon replaces it. At least Mila doesn’t feel pain during sleep, she thinks to herself. She sets out a glass of water anyways, in case Mila wakes up with a scratchy throat. 

 

_ Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and hopes for the best. _

 

Sara notices Mila’s Hanahaki worsening and tries not to think about what it means. Mila needs frequent breaks during practice now, and whenever Sara goes to check on her, she almost always finds the other skater hunched over, coughing into a napkin. “I think you should tell Georgi and the others about it,” Sara says eventually. “They deserve to know.” She notices the way Mila fidgets with the hem of her shirt, the flash of fear the appears in her eyes. “Later,” says the Russian skater. “Later.” 

 

(They don’t talk about how there might not be a “later.”)

 

Sara ends up sharing a room with Mila. She makes a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor of Mila’s room one day, and goes there instead of her own room when it’s time for bed. The redhead arches an eyebrow when she sees the interesting arrangement. “I can keep a better eye on you from here,” Sara explains. Mila rolls her blue eyes, and prepares to say that she doesn’t need it when she finds herself in a coughing fit. Sara hugs her close and rubs soothing circles on her back as the Russian skater coughs a mixture of red and purple. Blood and violet tulip petals. Sara looks up to see her fear mirrored in Mila’s eyes. “I’ve never coughed up blood before,” she murmurs faintly. There are no protests about Sara spending the night in Mila’s room anymore. 

 

The next morning, Mila shakes Sara awake. Sara forces open tired eyes, and asks what the matter is. Mila responds by showing her the flower in her hands. It would have been beautiful, Sara thinks, if it wasn’t a violet tulip. 

 

(They don’t bother going to practice.)

  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

_ Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and wonders what love is. _

 

Sara makes her way back home from the rink with Mila when the redhead suddenly stops. Sara feels instant concern, desperately hoping the other skater isn’t coughing up more petals. Luckily, there’s no pain to be found on Mila’s face, no fear in her blue eyes. She turns to meet Sara’s questioning gaze, saying thoughtfully, “You know, I think maybe I should tell the others. About my flowers. It’s been a little more than a year since I was told I had three years at the most.” Sara pulls out her phone and does her best to hide the fear that runs through her veins. Somehow, she’d forgotten that. It takes effort to force the next words out: “Do you want me to find out when they’re free? We could break the news to them over dinner.” Mila nods, thoughtful expression still on her face. “Yes, I think that’d be good. Invite Yakov, too.” “Okay,” Sara says, swallowing hard, eyes fixed firmly on the ground as she tries not to think about how little time she has left with Mila. “Hey,” the Russian skater says suddenly, gently tipping Sara’s chin up and looking her straight in the eyes. She locks their hands together and says, “Don’t worry. It’ll work out.” Sara does her best to smile in return. The rest of the walk home is in silence, Mila deep in thought and Sara trying to compose herself. 

 

(Sara calls Mickey later. He must hear her shaky voice and how it keeps breaking. He tells her about his day though, and doesn’t pry.)

 

In the end, there’s no need for a dinner to tell everyone about Mila’s Hanahaki. 

  
  


It’s a bright clear day outside. Sara wishes she didn’t have to practice today, that she could go outside instead and enjoy the fresh air. Instead, she’s practicing jumps to appease Yakov, who seems to be in a particularly irritated mood. He even yells at  _ Yuuri _ . Yuuri, who is quite possibly the sweetest person Sara knows and probably couldn’t do any wrong even if he tried. Victor looks incredibly affronted when he sees Yakov lecturing his beloved, and spends five minutes just angrily muttering words under his breath. He catches sight of Sara and skates over, not wasting a beat before going on a rant. “Can you believe it?” Victor asks, still glaring at Yakov. “He yelled at Yuuri. Yuuri! My sweet katsudon! Can you believe it?!” Sara’s trying to convince the silver-haired man not to go over and give Yakov a piece of his mind (“No Victor, I don’t think Yakov would appreciate being cussed out.” “WELL I BET YUURI DIDN’T APPRECIATE BEING YELLED AT.”), when she hears Yuri Plisetsky shriek.

 

Yuri Plisetsky shrieking isn’t an unnatural occurrence, so at first Sara’s not terribly concerned. Georgi probably found another picture of Yuri in cat-ears, courtesy of Yuri’s Angels. What he screams next though, makes Sara’s heart drop. “Mila, why in fuck’s name are you coughing up petals?! What the hell?!”

 

Everyone, even Yakov, gets to Yuri’s part of the rink in record time. The Russian Fairy stares at Mila, who’s leaning against the edge of the rink for support, with wide wide eyes. He opens his mouth to say (scream?) something more, then closes it. Sara quietly asks, “Can you breathe alright?” The redhead looks up to meet her eyes and manages a “yes” before coughing up another storm of petals. Sara carefully pulls Mila close, and says, “Let’s get off the ice. I think some medication would be good, just in case.” Georgi wordlessly offers Mila a hand while Victor and Yuuri move aside, giving them some room. Yuri stays frozen, staring blankly at the purple on the ice until Yakov rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. He follows them off the ice. 

 

After they remove their skates and get Mila settled comfortably on the floor just outside of the rink, Sara finds the medication. Mila doesn’t look at anyone as she takes it, and a silence fills the room, broken only by an occasional cough. Finally, Yuuri asks the question she’s sure fills everyone’s heads: “Is it Hanahaki?” The redhead brushes a stray petal on the corner of her mouth and breathes out a faint reply. “Yes,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Roughly a year ago, I was told I had Hanahaki. I could either get surgery or not. I chose not to, and did my best to continue skating. I told Yakov about it, and then Sara later found out at a competition. I’m on medication to help with any breathing problems, but there’s nothing we can do for the coughing. Sara usually makes tea to soothe my throat, but there’s not any medicine I can take for it. I didn’t tell you guys because I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s not exactly something to be proud of.”

 

Sara surveys the faces around her. Georgi looks sad, but not surprised. He must’ve seen it coming, Sara realises. Yakov has an expression of forced calm. Yuuri’s buried his head into Victor’s chest, who’s touching his own throat with full eyes. And Yuri - Yuri looks furious. She doesn’t know he’s furious at Mila for not getting the surgery or for not telling them, but something has caused his blue eyes to burn with anger. 

 

Before anyone can say anything else, Yuri slams his fists against the wall. “Why haven’t you gotten the surgery? It’s just pure goddamn idiocy not to!” Mila looks him straight in the eyes and says, “Violet tulips.” A look of confusion flickers on his face before anger replaces it. “The fuck? Mila, what the hell does that have t-” “They’re the flowers I’ve been coughing up. They mean,” she continues, talking over him, “faithfulness.” Yuri’s expression loses the fury. Without it, he just looks lost. Like a scared child with nowhere to go. “...so you’ll let it kill you?” Yuri asks quietly. “You’ll die if it means being faithful, to a person that doesn’t even love you back?” The undercurrent of ice beneath his words has disappeared. Mila nods, and whispers, “I guess so.” Victor enters the conversation then. “Mila, you can’t just throw it all away. Would it really be that bad to get the surgery? You still have time to decide to get it or not. You would forget -” “But at least you’d still be alive,” Yuuri says, finishing the sentence. His eyes are red and it breaks Sara’s heart to see him like this. The redhead closes her eyes. Her voice is thick when she says, “I might’ve gotten surgery if it didn’t mean forgetting a lot of my memories of skating. And skating is my life.” 

 

Sara furrows her brow. Mila doesn’t talk about her love at all, so it’s all new information to Sara. She wonders who it could be, and wonders why she suddenly feels so jealous at the thought of Mila loving someone. “What the fuck does that even mean?” Yuri growls, interrupting her train of thought. “Who is it? Do I know them? Do they know it’s them?” Growing impatient when Mila doesn’t respond, he gives a frustrated groan and says, “At least give me a hint.” The older skater gives a helpless smile and says, hesitantly, “She’s got eyes that match the color of the petals I’ve been coughing up.” Yuri stops to process it (as does everyone else), and Sara runs it through her brain. She knows suddenly, is so sure it  _ hurts _ , and doesn’t know what to say. Yuri must figure it out, too, because he turns to look at Sara and says, “Oh fuck no.” 

 

She hears someone gasp (Yuuri?) and sees Victor bury his face in his hands from the corner of her eye. Georgi murmurs something in Russian and Yakov sighs as Yuri lets out a stream of curses. Mila keeps her eyes on the floor. “Mila,” Sara hears herself say, “let’s go home.”

 

_ Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and dreams of a happy ending.  _

 

Sara starts to categorize her days with Mila as either good or bad.

 

Good days mean that Sara gets to take her ice skating. It means they get to leave the house and breathe in fresh air. 

Bad days mean that Mila coughs and coughs and coughs. It means the bathroom floor is littered with purple and red.

 

Today, Sara decides, will be a good day. There's been so many bad lately, that it just has to be good.

 

She wakes up in Mila’s bed every day now. (One night, Mila had been out at dinner with Georgi. Sara had felt lonely, so she curled up on Mila’s bed and breathed in the familiar smell. She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew Mila was climbing into bed. All the redhead has said was, “Go back to sleep, you little dork.” So Sara pulled Mila close and fell asleep to her breathing. The next day, Mila didn’t say anything about it, so neither did Sara. She prepared to go to bed in her little cocoon of blankets as usual when Mila had poked her head over the edge of the bed, blue eyes sparkling as she asked, “Not sleeping on the bed?” Sara let out a startled laugh as the other skater pulled her up, and it became routine.) Nothing happens between them. They just wrap themselves in each other at night and wake up to the sound of each other’s breathing in the morning. 

 

This morning, Sara wakes up first. 

She makes tea for Mila and coffee for herself. When she makes her way back to the bed, Mila’s blinking the sleep away from her blue eyes, yawning as she tries to smooth her messy hair. “Good morning,” Sara cheerfully says, handing her the steaming mug. The redhead groans. “No,” Mila says, “it’s not good. It’s too  _ early _ .” The older skater laughs as Mila grumpily sips her tea, and takes a moment to check over the sheets. There’s roughly twenty-five petals (too high a number, it’s too  _ many _ ) but thankfully no flowers. There’s blood though. It stains the petals and Sara pushes the rush of fear down. Mila’s still here, she reminds herself. It’s okay. 

 

“So,” Sara says, glad that she sounds calmer than she feels, “do you think we can go to the rink today?” Mila lights up and nearly drops her drink when she responds, “Yes!” The Italian skater feels a soft, natural smile forming on her face. She’s missed skating, too. If Mila doesn’t go, Sara doesn’t either. (The redhead doesn’t feel up to going most days.) “Let’s get some food before we go, okay?” Sara says, moving to go try and make something to eat. A hand stops her. “Hm, Mila?” Sara asks, worried that something’s wrong. The other skater looks okay, but what if something inside her body is bleeding? Mayb- “Sara,” Mila says, “First off, I can tell you’re worrying, so stop it. I’m fine. My second point is that you aren’t allowed to make breakfast today.  _ You burn the pancakes every time _ . It’s my turn today.” Sara laughs and doesn’t bother protesting. She’s so glad Mila feels well enough to even think of making breakfast. “Fine,” she says, “but the burned pancakes are most certainly not my fault. It’s your kitchen’s fault.” 

 

(Mila makes the best pancakes Sara has ever had. Sara maintains that Mila’s kitchen has a grudge against her, and that’s the only reason Mila can make perfect ones while Sara’s are always burned.)

 

They pull on coats and begin the walk to the rink. Mila calls her mother as they stroll. They speak Russian, too fast for Sara to catch any of the small phrases she’s managed to learn. About five minutes in, Mila lets Sara say hi. Sara winces when she hears her own horrible Russian accent. But Mila’s mother just laughs and replies in heavily accented English. “Hi Sara! It is good to talk to you!” Then Mila pulls her phone back to ear and continues chatting. The Italian skater can’t help but wonder if Mila’s mother knows that Sara’s the one who’s causing her daughter to die. She knows of Mila’s Hanahaki, but does she know who caused it? She probably doesn’t, Sara decides. How could she treat Sara so kindly if she knew? Mila must somehow sense her morbid thoughts, because she offers a cheery goodbye (one thing Sara can actually understand) and pulls the older skater into a quick hug. “Smile,” Mila says, “we’re almost there!” 

 

When they finally get inside, Victor announces, “Mila and Sara are here!” Yuuri grins as he waves while Georgi wraps Mila up in a hug. Yakov sighs as he says, “Oh sure, just take a break. Not like we need to work on jumps or anything.” The purple-eyed skater knows Yakov well enough by now to understand that there’s no real bite behind his words. Looking past him, she sees Yuri. He’s actually smiling. She averts her eyes quickly. Yuri rarely lets anyone see him with a genuine smile, and she doesn’t want him to morph his expression into a scowl if he sees her staring. 

 

Eventually, everyone goes back to what they were doing before their arrival, whether it’s practicing jumps or pestering Yakov (“Yakov I really don’t think my costu-” “Yuri you’re not getting an animal print costume so give it up.” “But Yakov!”). Mila pulls on her skates in record time and tugs Sara along with her. They don’t do any complicated jumps or spins, but just skate circles around the rink. Though Mila won’t admit it, Sara knows skating circles it about all she can manage to do, maybe even too much. But it’s nice to have ice underneath her feet again, and it must be doubly so for Mila, who’s spent even less time on the ice than Sara has lately, so she doesn’t say anything. It must take more out of Mila than Sara first thought though, because when Sara suggests that they go home, the Russian skater doesn’t even protest. She just nods and skates off, undoing her laces quickly. Her goodbyes are rushed, and Sara only figures out why when Mila collapses the moment they’re outside. A carpet of petals land on the sidewalk, and Sara hurries to shield Mila from the bystanders’ inquisitive eyes, scooping up petals as she does so. There’s already been speculation about why the two of them haven’t been skating in competitions lately, and the media doesn’t need more fuel. In the end, the Italian skater calls a cab. Neither of them feel much like walking.

 

Once the pair are safely inside their apartment, Mila heads straight for bed while Sara makes more tea. She leaves it on the nightstand beside Mila and climbs in with her. They watch bad TV on the younger skater’s laptop until Sara decides that it’s lunch time. They eat leftovers from last night (Yuuri was kind enough to make them katsudon) and end up playing a game Yuri’s been crazy about lately until dinner (Sara makes macaroni and cheese). 

 

That night, Mila nods off to sleep early. Sara ends up lying next to her, listening to her heart. She’s not sure what she would do if it stopped beating. She doesn’t even want to think about it. So she closes her eyes and focuses on the steady beat of Mila’s heart and tells herself that everything is okay.

  
  


Everything isn't okay.

 

Because when Sara wakes up the next morning, she doesn't wake up to the sound of Mila’s breathing. She doesn't wake up to Mila’s steady heart beat. 

 

Sara Crispino wakes up to a world where Mila Babicheva is dead.

  
(She wonders if anything will ever be okay again.)


	5. Chapter 5

_ Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and is never quite the same afterwards. _

 

Sara doesn’t really remember much of what happens in the days after Mila’s death. The funeral is small and quiet, and passes by in a whirlwind of grey and goodbyes. She spends most of her time after in bed, sleeping or staring blankly at the walls, trying not to think (thinking means remembering and Sara can’t handle it). Eventually, she tries not sleeping, too. Sleeping means not-thinking, but it also means waking up, and for a tiny, miniscule moment after she wakes, Sara forgets that she won’t ever see get to make Mila tea in the morning again, and everything’s okay. But then she remembers, and remembering hurts so much it’s not worth the relief sleep brings. So she tries not to sleep and tries not to think and only eats when she remembers to. It’s not healthy, but it helps, so Sara pretends like it’s okay.

 

(She turns off her phone. It’s just easier not to talk to people.)

 

She spends a week and a half like this, not dead but not really living, either. She would’ve spent longer, she thinks, if not for Yuri. 

 

Sara wakes up from a (unintentional) mid-afternoon nap to the sound of an angry banging at her bedroom door. When she doesn’t answer it, the pounding doesn’t stop. It occurs to her that she should probably be concerned that someone is in her apartment, but she lacks the energy to feel fear, a direct result of how devoid of sleep and sustenance she is in her current state, so she opens the door (maybe it will make the noise stop) and finds Yuri Plisetsky on the other side.

 

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone, dumbass?!” 

Sara blinks. She just feels so  _ tired _ , and it’s as if everything has slowed down. Yuri’s sudden attack doesn’t help, and it takes her longer than it should to process his statement. “What?” She winces when she hears herself, her voice rough after being unused for a while. The blond skater sighs, and deliberately emphasizes each word when he repeats his question: “Why. Haven’t. You. Been. Answering. Your. Phone. Dumbass.” Feeling a twinge of annoyance, the purple-eyed skater responds in the same manner, saying, “It’s. Turned. Off.” “Why?” Yuri asks, genuine curiosity masked by irritation. Sara only shrugs in response. She doesn’t know how to explain the mess of emotions she feels. 

 

The blond skater sighs again, but doesn’t question it further. He takes a moment to observe her, to see the changes that’ve occurred since he saw her last. “You haven’t been sleeping. Or eating,” says Yuri. It’s not a question and something that sounds a little like anger weaves itself in his words. Sara shrugs and replies, “Well I was napping before you barged in. How’d you even get here anyways?” “I had a key,” he says flatly. “But let’s go back to the you not sleeping or eating thing. Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?” 

 

Sara tries to think of an answer, of something worth saying. Nothing comes to mind though, and as the silence in between them grows, so does Yuri’s anger, until finally, the skater snaps. 

 

“Well answer me, goddammit!” Sara looks at the floor. “Mi-” she begins, but is cut off when Yuri growls, “Don’t you dare say it’s because of her.” She doesn’t have anything to say in response, and it only makes Yuri madder. “Don’t you dare say it’s because of her death. Because you killed her, and you’re the only reason she’s not here right now. All you had to do was love her. You just had to love her to save her and  _ you didn’t _ . Everything that’s happening right now?  _ It’s your fault.  _ And you know what? She died for her love for you, so don’t you dare throw that away now.”

 

The Italian skater doesn’t realize she’s crying until the fury in Yuri’s expression is dimmed, replaced by poorly-concealed worry. “Sara…?” He says quietly. “I didn’t mean to mak-”

 

“But you’re right!” Sara bursts out. “She died because of me! But I didn’t want her to die and I tried to love her; I wanted to love her! But it didn’t work and I don’t know why, because she was the only person I could ever even imagine spending the rest of my life with. I thought I loved her. I thought it was enough. But now she’s gone and it wasn’t enough  _ then _ and it isn’t enough  _ now _ and I just can’t remember anything and she’s gone and what if I jus-” A fresh wave of tears racks her body, and she curls up into herself, unable to talk through the tears. Yuri stands awkwardly in front of her, unsure if he should try to comfort her or let her cry it out. A pair of arms suddenly wraps around her then, and Sara pulls away in surprise. It’s not Yuri; it’s  _ Yuuri _ . Spinning around, it’s only then that she realizes that somehow, her fellow skaters under Yakov’s tutelage have piled into the apartment. 

 

“What are you guys doing here…?” Sara asks, suddenly incredibly aware of how thick her voice is. She wipes away a stray tear. Victor gives a sheepish smile, and says, “Well, we were going to surprise you with food but Yuri got here before us,” shooting a glare at the smaller skater as he tries to explain. “When we got here, the door was unlocked so we let ourselves in-” “Sorry about that!” Yuuri pipes up. “-and we got here in the middle of your conversation,” finishes Victor. 

 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it too much?” Georgi asks gently, when the food has been safely stored in the fridge and everyone is squashed into the kitchen. Sara nods, not trusting herself to speak and not immediately dissolve into tears again. “We don’t have to talk about it,” Victor says, “but I want you to know that none of us blame you for what happened to Mila.” Everyone affirms his statement, even Yuri, who looks remorseful, possibly due to the lecture Georgi has been discreetly delivering to him. True to Victor’s words, they don’t say anymore about the subject, and just do their best to enjoy each other’s company. 

 

(It’s hard to ignore the fact that Georgi isn’t wearing any of his usual make up, that Victor and Yuuri cling to each other more than usual, that sometimes Yuri has to hide his face behind his hair. But at least they’re trying to pretend everything’s okay, right? And if they can do it, maybe Sara can, too.)

  
  


A month after Mila’s death, Sara still feels awful. She still can’t sleep in Mila’s old room like she used to. She still can’t remember exactly what Mila’s last words to her were and she still hasn’t stepped foot on the ice again. Sara never makes tea anymore and she hates violet tulips now. But she’s trying to take care of herself and she even called Mickey the other day, so she’s mending. Things might be okay again. 

 

_ Sara meets Mila Babicheva, and loves too late.  _

 

Two months after Mila’s death, Sara feels slightly better. Today, she even feels well enough to go to the park. Gazing at the blue blue sky, it hits her suddenly, that Mila would’ve loved a day like this. The thought brings a sad smile, and surprisingly, a cough as well. Feeling something drift from her mouth, Sara catches it in her hands, and brings it closer to her face, so she can see it better. Somehow, she’s not surprised at what she finds in her cupped hands. Dropping her hands to her sides, Sara walks on and doesn’t look back.

  
(A single red petal falls to the ground.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
